


Our Shadows Taller Than Our Souls

by LadyShadowphyre



Series: Something Beautiful [7]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angel True Forms, Angelic Soul Bonds Are Different, Angelic Soulmates, Discussion of Soul Bonds, Discussion of True Vessels, F/M, I'm Probably Forgetting Some Tags, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, M/M, Multi, No One Told Castiel Not to Tell His Soulmates Everything, Other, Platonic Soulmates, Romantic Soulmates, Soulmate AU, soulmate dreams
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-15
Updated: 2017-08-25
Packaged: 2018-12-02 08:02:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11505126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyShadowphyre/pseuds/LadyShadowphyre
Summary: Praying to Castiel was somehow familiar and incredibly nerve-wracking at the same time. Still, that's what Sam had said was the way to contact their mutual soulmate, so Jimmy knelt at the side of his bed to pray and then went to bed. When he opened his eyes, he was on a forest road with a voice like thunder in his ears calling his name. Follows "What Is And What Should Never Be".





	1. Rings of Smoke Through the Trees

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Zetal (Rodinia)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rodinia/gifts).



> Hello, everyone! I'm so sorry for the delay in getting this part out. I spent two weeks struggling to get completely moved out of my former house while dealing with an excessive number of spider bites (no widows or recluses, thankfully, but thirteen is still a lot) and it took me a bit to get back into the swing of writing when I finally finished. So please accept this extra-long part one as an apology gift, and part two will be along sometime tomorrow!

**I** F SOMEONE HAD asked Jimmy what he thought he would be doing the evening of his younger soulmate's birthday, the answers would have ranged from "making travel arrangements" to any number of various plans to ready the house for a new resident, possibly two if necessary. He still intended to help Amelia make up the guest room for whenever Dean showed up, but the knowledge that he wouldn't be seeing his soulmate in person for at least several months was a lead weight in his stomach that kept him from eating very much of his already delayed dinner.

Amelia, God bless her, carefully guided the conversation over dinner to let Jimmy participate as little as possible, neatly distracting Claire at the same time. Jimmy managed to pull himself together enough to carry his daughter upstairs to wash her face and hands, brush her teeth, and tuck her into bed with a story, though he couldn't for the life of him remember what he had just read by the time he had closed the book and kissed her goodnight. Claire either didn't mind or didn't notice, because she was out like a light. Jimmy breathed a sigh of relief and carefully slipped out of his daughter's room to face the music with his wife.

"So," Amelia began as Jimmy sat down. "Today was Sam's eighteenth birthday."

"Mmhm," Jimmy nodded, slumping back into the chair and rubbing his eyes tiredly.

"I went ahead and told him when your birthday is, since you didn't on the phone and he said he forgot to ask last night," she added. "His last name is Winchester, by the way, and while he confirmed his brother's name is Dean he didn't say anything about his father."

"He didn't say much more about him to me," Jimmy admitted. "Just that he's a former Marine, probably served in 'Nam, and is functionally an atheist." He hesitated, running a hand back through his hair, ruffling it out of the neat comb over he'd managed to keep it in at work all day. "Apparently the man's wife was murdered when Sam was six months old and that kicked off his paranoia and sent him on the road with the boys trying to keep them safe from the murderer."

"Oh my goodness..." Amelia gasped, sinking into the chair opposite Jimmy. "That... that's awful! Jimmy..."

"Apparently it's a valid precaution," Jimmy added morosely. "He didn't tell me everything about exactly what happened, but there was a scare at Stanford earlier and he doesn't want to risk us becoming targets for the people who are stalking his family and him specifically. He's more worried for our safety than he is for himself...."

"Well, we're not just going to let that go, right?" Amelia demanded, leaning forward. "I  _ like _ him, Jimmy. He's your mutual soulmate, and he knows he's Claire's godfather, right? Horrible stalkers or not, he's a part of this family now, and you know what that means, James Collin Novak."

"We stand together, come what may," Jimmy answered, bowing his head. "I know, Lia. Believe me, the last thing I want is for him to be alone through all this. Just..." He grimaced and rubbed at his eyes. "He's got a point about safety, and the... people after him wouldn't hesitate to use anyone and anything to get to him, or care about collateral damage. It's why we need to get the guest room ready anyway for his brother to stop by and add to our security."

"That's why he was glad to hear me extend the invitation to his brother as well," Amelia murmured, more to herself than Jimmy. She was silent for a long moment, and Jimmy let the silence stand, giving her the time she needed to think and process, something he couldn't quite manage entirely just yet. It wasn't long before Amelia spoke again. "Did he say when to expect his brother on our doorstep?"

"Not exactly," Jimmy admitted. "From the way he spoke, it sounded like Dean is already on the road out from Palo Alto, but I don't know if he's heading straight for Pontiac. Could be a week, could be tomorrow night."

"Then you had better stop by the pharmacy for a new toothbrush and razor on your way home from work tomorrow," Amelia said decisively, setting her hands on the table and using it to lever herself up out of the chair. "I'll strip the guest bed and wash the sheets in the morning. For now, I think we both could use some sleep."

_ And I have a second soulmate to pray to, _ Jimmy thought to himself as he followed his wife up to their bedroom. While Amelia sequestered herself in the bathroom for her nightly routine, Jimmy changed into pajamas and, feeling awkward in a way he never did in church, knelt on the floor beside the bed and clasped his hands.

"Holy Castiel, Angel of the Lord, please hear my prayer," he began, then faltered. "Uh... our soulmate, Sam Winchester, passed along your name, which I'm really glad to know now. He also said you told him to pray to you to talk, so if you've really got the hang of talking to us without hurting us, uh, well, we could probably use a chat. Maybe some kind of group dream conference, if that's something you can do?" A little lamely, he added, "Um, amen."

There was no response.

Well, he hadn't really expected a response after Sam had told him that the angels were supposed to keep off Earth, except he kind of still had expected... something. Feeling silly and trying  _ not _ to feel silly, he switched places with Amelia in the bathroom to brush his teeth, staring at his reflection in the mirror. Did his eyes look more blue than usual? Maybe something was different about the lightbulbs...? Shaking his head at himself, he crawled into bed next to Amelia with a murmured "goodnight" that was sleepily returned and closed his eyes.

He opened them again to see an unfamiliar forest surrounding him on all sides with thick brown trunks and lush greenery hanging from low-swaying limbs. Beneath his bare feet was a carpet of shed pine needles that formed a brown and beaten path stretching off in one direction winding through the trees. In the other direction--

_ Oh.... _

He had wondered if ten years had changed his memory of that glowing figure, made it seem more brilliant and otherworldly than it had been. His memory was definitely off, but if anything he had  _ underestimated _ that brilliance and otherworldliness. Without the constraints of the church keeping the angel compressed down to fit within its confines, they towered over even the tops of the pine trees which seemed to bend out of the way of their body without actually moving from their rigid upright growth. The massive glowing head - heads? - with seven swirling eyes was bent low beneath the treetops to look down into Jimmy's upturned face, long limbs folded into a crouch as the massive length of a glowing tail wound through the tree trunks off down the path behind the angel. Above them, the kaleidoscopic wings stretched like the canopy of an Amazonian rainforest, shifting and fluttering and throwing darts of color and light around them as the high-placed dream sun shone its own light through them to mingle with the angel's own glow.

"C-castiel?" Jimmy stammered, eyes wide and struck with awe. The blue swirling orbs seemed to brighten and the huge wings shifted and seemed to fill and sparkle all the more as the massive head dipped in an approximate nod.

_ "Hello, Jimmy." _

The words rolled through him like thunder, vibrating in his bones with the undercurrent of crystalline windchimes and the soft hiss of rain on water. Jimmy swallowed. If that's what the angel sounded like after practicing speaking to humans, he no longer doubted that their true voice could easily be devastating to mortal ears, and his awe and wonder increased. He didn't realize that he was gaping until the blue orbs seemed to dim and the head bowed further as the figure almost seemed to hunch inwards.

_ "I apologize," _ the voice intoned even more low and rumbling than before. _ "I did not intend to distress you--" _

"No!" Jimmy broke in quickly, flushing as his interruption set off a flurry of asynchronous blinking of the orbs-- eyes. They had to be eyes. "No, it's... I'm not distressed." More blinking, along with a tilt of the head to one side in a way that might have been disbelieving in a human. Jimmy ducked his head, sheepish. "Well, not  _ badly _ , I mean.... Ah...." Rubbing the back of his neck, he glanced around the forest. "Where are we?"

_ "We are in a part of the pine forest surrounding the southern tip of the low mountain range you call the Appalachian Mountains," _ Castiel responded after a brief hesitation.  _ "It seemed a wise place to wait for Sam to fall asleep and join us, as neither of you have memories of being here before." _

"And that's important?" Jimmy asked curiously, looking around the forest with renewed interest.

_ "Many such remote locations hold memories of hunting supernatural creatures for Sam, reminders of which he would not presently appreciate, or memories of his father's militaristic survival training, which he would appreciate even less," _ Castiel replied, the undercurrent of chimes coming through almost subdued.  _ "For your comfort, I felt removing us from your home region would spark your curiosity and so set you more at ease." _

"Okay, you're not wrong about that," Jimmy conceded with a chuckle, turning back to look up at the angel with a smile, already feeling more relaxed than he had. "Is that a side effect of your bonds with us, or of you being an angel?"

_ "A little of both, perhaps," _ Castiel said, wings lifting slightly like a human shrug before lowering and fanning outwards.  _ "While it is only us two, perhaps we may speak as we should have done had I been prepared to communicate with humans ten years prior." _

"In what way?" Jimmy hedged, battling down a flicker of unease at the way Castiel had phrased that. "I mean, it's not like you had an address I could reach or a phone number I could call. Do phones even work in Heaven?"

_ "I do not know," _ Castiel confessed.  _ "Telephones did not exist until long after angels were recalled from Earth, though Heaven is not exactly a physical realm as you might perceive it." _

"No phones, got it," Jimmy said. "Though I guess you wouldn't really need long distance communication with how loud your voice is, right?"

_ "Heaven is quite vast, actually," _ Castiel corrected him, massive wings flicking outwards and giving Jimmy the impression of mild annoyance. The angel's forelimbs also shifted, bending to bring Castiel further down towards the ground until their underbelly was pressed along the path like a reclining Sphinx.  _ "To speak across those distances, we utilize a multi-layered telepathic communication network. You might liken it to a mental short-wave radio, with each angel connected to a specific set of 'channels' that we may listen in to or communicate across." _

"Angel radio," Jimmy repeated, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from giggling hysterically. It wasn't that funny, but then he was also standing barefoot in his pajamas in the middle of a North Georgia forest he'd never visited and was starting to feel the disorientation of having his world twisted upside down for the second time today. He sat down on the path, folding his legs under him and propping his elbows on his knees as he dropped his head into his hands. There was a moment of silence and stillness, and then he felt the rustle and sweep of something that buzzed and tingled along his skin brush over the top of his head cautiously.

_ "I wished often to come to you in this manner," _ came the quiet thunder again.  _ "You have always had such faith in my Father... I have felt saddened that my existence seemed to have caused you pain and doubt, when I would only wish to offer you comfort and love." _

"Why didn't you?" Jimmy asked softly, not looking up. "If you wanted to come to me, why didn't you?"  _ Why did you leave me alone? _

_ "Angels having soul bonds with humans is... not precisely unprecedented, but it is very rare," _ Castiel explained carefully.  _ "I should also add that the bond shared between you and I is different from the bonds we share with Sam... and those bonds  _ **_are_ ** _ unprecedented." _

"Really?" Jimmy frowned, looking up at the glowing multi-eyed face. "What's so unprecedented?"

_ "Angels are not physical beings the way humans are," _ Castiel explained, wings shifting above them much like someone fidgeting awkwardly.  _ "When we come to Earth, if we are to move among humans and interact with you without damaging you, either by burning out your eyes from looking upon our true forms or bursting your eardrums from our true voices, then we must take a willing human as a vessel. For most angels, any human with a sufficiently strong bloodline may serve as a vessel, but some humans are considered True Vessels, perfectly matched soul to Grace, with complimentary personalities to allow a more seamless merging. Those humans will typically share a soulbond with the angel for whom they are to act as vessel and only that angel. There may be one-sided soulbonds from others to the True Vessel in order to assure the continuance of the bloodline, but the Vessel will not have any other mutual bonds save to their intended angel to ensure that the pull of a mutual soulbond does not interfere with the angel's mission on Earth." _

"So I'm just some sort of living human suit for you, is that what you're saying?" Jimmy demanded, starting to get angry. Castiel jerked backwards, wings flaring open and all seven eyes swirling rapidly.

_ "No!" _ the angel exclaimed, the sound almost deafening to the point that Jimmy clapped his hands over his ears. Castiel hunched inwards, wings drooping and eyes dimming and blinking, and when they spoke next their voice was considerably subdued.  _ "No... you are not simply a 'human suit'. Please never think that I care for you any less than as the bright and beautiful soul who is my perfect compliment. I am... not explaining this well." _ The massive being lowered itself once more, still somehow fitting between the trees rather than moving them, and one huge forelimb extended to curve around Jimmy. Studying the limb, he thought it might terminate in some kind of paw, but the toes were too long, more like fingers, and seemed to have talons or claws on the ends, each one almost as long as he was tall.

"Let's... come back to that," Jimmy offered after a moment. "How does our bond differ from the bonds we have with Sam? I mean, I get that apparently I'm not supposed to have any mutual bonds except for you, but..."

_ "Our bonds with Sam Winchester are unique because he is not my True Vessel, and yet I am bonded to him, as are you,"  _ Castiel said quietly.  _ "Rather than the bond between angel and True Vessel, the bonds we share with him are more like any other soulmate bond you would find between two humans." _ Three of the eyes blinked closed for a moment before opening again.  _ "I confess that I do not know how this has come about save for my Father's will. It is expected for the Archangels to have True Vessels, but I am only a soldier, not even so high in rank as a seraph. That so low an angel has a True Vessel is rare enough, but that an angel can have a bond with a human that is not with their True Vessel... that has never happened, to my knowledge." _

"Wow," Jimmy said, wincing slightly at the flat tone of his voice. Castiel's wings seemed to droop in response, but Jimmy couldn't think of any way to reassure the angel, too busy trying to process everything that he was hearing. "So, to summarize. I'm your True Vessel, which is super-unusual because you're an angel but not an Archangel. Amelia's my one-sided soulmate for breeding purposes, except she's not interested in sex and I'm not interested in women. You and I are both soulbonded to Sam, which nobody realized was possible. Does Sam have any other bonds besides us?"

_ "He is mutually soulbonded with his older brother, Dean," _ Castiel admitted.  _ "This is also rather unprecedented as their bond was not assigned by Heaven, but forged between them of their own will beginning when Dean carried Sam out of their burning house the night their mother was murdered by Azazel." _

"Azazel?" Jimmy repeated. Sam hadn't mentioned a name for the creature that had killed his mother, just that it was a demon.

_ "Azazel is one of the four Princes of Hell, distinguishable by his yellow eyes whereas most demons' eyes are black," _ Castiel answered.  _ "The First Demon, Lilith, has white eyes and is the current Queen of Hell with Azazel as her second in command." _

"Well, that's not disturbing at all," Jimmy muttered sarcastically, then winced. "Sorry. Does that mean you know why Sam was targeted by the second in command of Hell?" He looked up at Castiel, but the angel was no longer looking at him. Or rather, three of the eyes were still focused on Jimmy, but the other four seemed to have rotated around off to one side... no, it was more like Castiel's head had split into two separate faces, one to look at Jimmy and one to turn and look somewhere else.

_ "Sam is asleep," _ Castiel said.  _ "We should wait for him to join us before I answer that question." _

That was the best idea Jimmy had heard all night.


	2. The Voices of Those Who Stand Looking

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A thousand apologies for the late chapter! Now that GISHWHES is over, I can get back to poking at all these SPN bunnies Zetal has inflicted on me. XP
> 
> Another difficulty I'm running into is that, with the decision to have Castiel tell Sam and Jimmy everything, I'm stuck having to write the angel telling them everything. THAR BE SPOILERS AHEAD!!

**T** HE FIRST THING Sam noticed when he opened his eyes were trees, which was fairly usual as his dreams went. The second thing he noticed was that it was apparently daytime, which was less usual. Mostly when he dreamed of being in the woods, it was at night, replaying a hunt in vivid detail with his and Dean's injuries - real or dreamed - graphically presented. The third thing he noticed was that he was still wearing the slightly too small gym shorts and t-shirt from his third to last high school that he'd gone to sleep in. The fourth thing he noticed was that he didn't recognize this patch of forest with its densely packed pine trees and winding deer track through the underbrush at all.

The fifth thing he noticed, which made him feel ridiculous for not having noticed sooner, was the tapered end of a massive glowing white tail a few feet ahead of him, the rest of the tail extending along the deer track. Looking up, he could see a canopy of fractured colors and light that he remembered from his dream the night before.

"Castiel...?" Sam called out, and then had to bite his lip against a laugh as the tip of the angel's tail twitched and curled upwards like a cat's, almost like a finger being crooked to beckon him forward.

_ "Jimmy and I are both here, Sam," _ the angel's awesome voice rumbled.  _ "Follow the path before you to join us." _

Well, that was direct. Sam eyed the tail uncertainly, wondering if he was perhaps supposed to walk over it, but gamely started forwards. To his surprise, though neither deer track nor tail moved, his feet stayed on the one as he walked beside the other. Castiel's tail, like the rest of them, was blindingly bright, more like coalesced white light than anything physical, yet he could feel the faintest brush of something buzzing against his side as he followed the gradually thickening length up to the angel's backside and one of the currently folded lower limbs. His previous impression of the limbs being like that of a dog or a cat seemed all the more accurate given the shape he could just make out, the end of the foot forming something closely resembling a lion's paw, only with crystalline claws nearly as big as he was on the end of each toe. The body lounging on the ground was equally massive, and somehow fit in between the trees without breaking any of them or seeming to bend in any odd direction, almost as if the angel's body and their surroundings were conforming to each other's perceived shapes while still maintaining their original dimensions. It was mind-boggling.

"You're a lot bigger out here than you were in the church," Sam commented, trying to fill the seemingly awkward silence as he kept walking, then winced as he realized how rude that might sound. "I mean--"

_ "I know," _ Castiel interrupted, the monotone rumble almost gentle.  _ "When you both dreamed, you dreamed yourselves within buildings, so I compressed my form to fit within those spaces. Out here, I need not be mindful of ceilings, and so I can retain my actual size." _

"Wow," Sam heard Jimmy's voice speak up from somewhere ahead of him. He was approaching what looked like a shoulder and foreleg now. "Just how big are you?"

_ "Were I to stand upright on two limbs, and discount the length of my tail, I would be nearly three hundred and nineteen meters tall," _ Castiel answered. Sam whistled, impressed.

"Damn... that's about as big as the Chrysler building!" Jimmy said, sounding just as impressed as Sam felt.

_ "...The what building?" _ Castiel asked, the chimes in their voice taking on a lilting flurry. Sam was starting to recognize the variances in the angel's voice as a different sort of emotional expression, much like how the angel's wings shifting and moving had been a form of body language, and the movement of those odd eyes had expressed emotion in the absence of recognizable facial cues. He didn't need any of those now to recognize that Castiel was confused, and Jimmy seemed to be equally on the uptake.

"It's a building in New York City of a type called a 'skyscraper'. It was the tallest building in the world when it was built, until the Empire State Building was put up," Jimmy was explaining as Sam followed the length of Castiel's forelimb and finally caught sight of the other man. He was wearing a set of dark blue plaid pajamas, bare feet tucked under his knees where he sat cross-legged on the fallen carpet of pine needles, dark hair attractively tousled.

"Trying to reach Heaven the so-called 'easy' way," Sam piped up, drawing Jimmy's attention as he stepped around the huge claws and into full view. "Instead of earning salvation the hard way. Though I'm guessing Pastor Jim was right that the Tower of Babel story was more allegory than fact?"

_ "Considerably so, yes,"  _ Castiel agreed.  _ "There was no one specific 'Tower of Babel'. The story that was written down to become part of the lexicon now referred to as the Bible described the ziggurats of the Babylonians, who created mosaics of the stars and constellations to circle the top, 'reaching the Heavens' as it were. In his telling of it, the Archangel Gabriel meant to highlight how marvelous human creativity and ingenuity can be when paired with free-flowing communication, to encourage people to use the gift of language given to them to communicate their ideas and feelings without resorting to violence. Very few angels do not remember the resulting explosion when the scribe to whom Gabriel had spoken made it about hubris and Heaven disapproving of such things that could raise humanity above the Earth in order to propagate a divisive political agenda in the region." _

"Definitely different," Sam admitted, still looking at Jimmy. Jimmy was looking back at him, wide blue eyes just staring at Sam like he'd never seen him before. Which, admittedly, wasn't all that inaccurate considering the last time Jimmy  _ remembered _ seeing Sam he'd been eight, and now Sam felt self-conscious about standing there next to their angel in too-short shorts and a high school t-shirt pulled too tight across his shoulders. He fought down the urge to cross his arms over his chest in discomfort. "Probably frustrating, too. I mean, a story meant to praise the importance of good communication getting miscommunicated..."

_ "Gabriel has never been fond of hypocrites or people who would deliberately misinterpret one of his messages," _ Castiel said, then seemed to make a sound that put Sam in mind of a human sigh filtered through bells.  _ "Perhaps that is why he left Heaven for Earth so long ago." _

"Gabriel left Heaven?" Sam asked, blinking up towards Castiel's massive head, mentally running through every mention of the Archangel he remembered Pastor Jim telling him about.

"Why would he come to Earth if he was upset with humans misinterpreting his messages?" Jimmy spoke up. Sam looked back at him to find the older man had apparently shaken off whatever had kept him silent and staring and was now frowning thoughtfully. "I would think he'd have stayed in Heaven, especially if no one is supposed to come down anymore...."

_ "Gabriel's departure from Heaven was one of the factors in the mandate to keep angels off Earth except in dire emergencies," _ Castiel explained.  _ "Michael and Raphael did not take the perceived abandonment well. Before he left, however, my garrison was one of those under the service of Gabriel, and he did not leave us without explanation or warning." _ The angel was silent for a moment, then the giant clawed hand Sam stood beside moved and twisted to curve around behind him much the way the other was doing to Jimmy.  _ "You may wish to sit, Sam. It seems I have much to tell you both, and from what little I have already told Jimmy I gather that it will not be an easy tale to hear." _

Sam's eyebrows flew up at that, and he glanced at Jimmy who grimaced slightly but nodded when he noticed Sam looking. Baffled, and more than a little disquieted, Sam dropped down to the pine needles, turning so that his back was to Castiel's hand and he could see and make eye contact with both Jimmy and, if he craned his neck, Castiel, and folded his legs beneath him. He had a feeling that whatever he was about to hear was going to be right up there with Christmas of 1991.

He was right. The "yellow eyed demon" John had once described to Bobby who had told Dean who had then told Sam turned out to be named Azazel and one of four Princes of Hell, who served as second in command of Hell under the First Demon, Lilith, who reigned as Queen. Lilith had been created by Lucifer, who had once been the brightest and most beautiful of the Archangels before his Fall - it wasn't hard to hear the capital "F" there - and his imprisonment in the Cage at the center of Hell by Michael at God's command. That Azazel had, under orders received from Lucifer, targeted multiple children with latent or burgeoning psychic powers from a specific bloodline. That the main branch of the bloodline, the Campbells, had been Hunters and that the Campbell name had died when Mary Campbell had married John Winchester. That Azazel had actually killed John and Mary had made a deal for his life in return for access within her home in ten years, on November second of 1983. That Azazel's purpose for entering, for killing Mary when she interrupted him, was because he was feeding six month old Sam his blood to kickstart his genetically given psychic abilities with a demonic "control lever".

That was the point where Sam stumbled up and out of the circle of Castiel's claws into the trees as his stomach violently rebelled, trying seventeen and a half years too late to purge himself of the ingested blood even though they were still in a dream and it wasn't enough, it wouldn't come out, the blood was still in him, tainting him, making him  _ wrong _ , all those coldly calculating looks of fear and mistrust John had shot him over the years, all those drunken curses, the blame for his mother's death--

An arm carefully slid around his chest as a cool hand slipped around to push his hair up off his face, stroking it back even as he heaved. Weakly, he tried to pull away, not wanting to taint the person holding him -  _ Jimmy _ \- with the blackness clawing its way through him, but the arms around him simply tightened, pulling him firmly back against a warm, solid chest and holding him close.

"Shhh... let it out... it's okay, Sam, just let go, let it out...." Jimmy's voice repeated softly next to his ear as his fingers picked up a steady rhythm through his hair. Sam's stomach gave one final heave before he slumped forwards. Jimmy gently tugged him back, turning until he had Sam cradled against his chest. Sam cracked an eye open and flinched back when he saw that Castiel had lowered their head to look at him, blue eyes dimmed and whirling rapidly.

"How--" he started, then coughed against the rasp of his throat, still raw from throwing up even though logic told him it was just a dream and he should be fine. "How can you stand to look at me? Either of you? I'm--"

_ "Our soulmate," _ Castiel rumbled quietly, the sound more than enough to drown out what Sam had been about to say despite how the chimes seemed oddly muted.  _ "There are those in Heaven who might unkindly dismiss you as an abomination for the demon blood, but they are short-sighted fools and I assure you that I am not one of them. To do so would be akin to blaming the victim of rape. Recall, too, that I have brushed your soul before, ten years ago, and even then I was overcome with awe at the brilliance of it. Azazel's blood should have twisted and corrupted you, made you more susceptible to temptation and violence, yet I have heard your prayers as you have asked my Father to bring peace to the souls denied their rest after what you call a 'salt and burn', and your prayers for the victims of the monsters you hunt, and for the survivors. Even tonight, as you prayed for Dean and Jimmy and Amelia and Claire, you also prayed for your father despite all he has done to you." _

"He's still my Dad," Sam protested weakly, shaking his head as much as Jimmy's hand in his hair would allow. "Just because I want to punch him in the face for hurting Dean doesn't mean I want him to end up some monster's victim!"

"I'm pretty sure  _ I  _ want to punch that man at this point," Jimmy muttered. "Sam, you're a good person. You're kind, honest whenever you can be, remarkably selfless, and it's painfully obvious how much you care about other people. Actually, I'm a little worried about how little you seem to care for yourself..." He trailed off, shaking his head. "I'll come back to that. My original point was that even people who've never had a single drop of demon blood in their body have trouble with that level of caring for their own family, never mind total strangers. You're ahead of the curve on a large chunk of humanity there."

"You're making me sound like some kind of saint," Sam protested, shaking his head. "Between me and Dean I'm pretty sure we've managed to break all of the Ten Commandments a few times over, and a few more laws besides!"

_ "Such is the nature of the job you have been born and raised to with the resources available to you," _ Castiel reminded him, the chiming intonations oddly gentle.  _ "Your father's paranoia, justified as it may have been in some cases, has not served your family well overall, particularly in terms of contacts among the Hunting community who are not... extremists of one variety or another. Bobby Singer and your Pastor, Jim Murphy, are the exceptions to this, but they are also remarkably solitary for otherwise sanctioned Hunters. Other contacts he had or might have made, his paranoia and unwillingness to admit to his mistakes and ask forgiveness have broken or burned bridges he might have otherwise maintained for you and Dean." _

"....I have so many questions about everything you just said, I don't even know where to start," Sam said at length, stunned. "Sanctioned Hunters? Like, real credentials and paychecks instead of fake IDs and credit card scams?" He flushed when he felt Jimmy stiffen behind him and he realized just how much he was admitting to the other man. He tried again to pull away, but again Jimmy's arms tightened around him.

_ "Perhaps it would be more accurate to say 'unofficially sanctioned'," _ Castiel admitted, massive head tilting to one side in a very human gesture of thoughtful consideration, four of their seven eyes blinking.  _ "Most sanctioned Hunters in the continental United States are indistinguishable from bounty hunters, save perhaps for the quality of weaponry they carry for dealing with non-human adversaries. While they do not have the sort of credentials that would open the same doors as, for instance, a badge from the Federal Bureau of Investigation, their badges and accompanying entry into the national database does help smooth things over when investigating strange deaths." _ The other three eyes blinked, one after another, and the colors of Castiel's wings shifted above them as if the angel were ruffling and resettling their feathers.  _ "Much of this information on Hunters I learned from Ayil, after I first appeared in your dream, Jimmy, and discovered that you and Sam could both perceive me." _

"Ayil?" Jimmy repeated curiously, echoing Sam's own puzzlement. "Is that another angel?"

_ "Yes, Ayil is one of my brothers tasked with presiding over the prayers of Hunters," _ Castiel answered. The wings shifted again.  _ "I have been subjected to many of his rantings over how few Hunters ever bother to pray at all, and that of the ones who do few are worth listening to." _ Sam tried not to flinch, but it must have telegraphed somehow anyway because Jimmy was holding him more tightly again and Castiel's eyes had dimmed.  _ "Please forgive my awkwardness in expressing myself clearly, Sam... Ayil is one of my brothers who has been in agreement with me about you, that your prayers are true and good and come from your heart which is also true and good despite Azazel's machinations against you." _

"Good," Jimmy said, just a little briskly. "From the sound of it our Sam could use all the support we can give him." Sam twisted his head around a bit to give Jimmy a searching look, baffled, to which Jimmy responded with a slightly cheeky grin. "What? You're  _ ours _ , Sam. Azazel can just go right back down to the depths of Hell if he thinks he's got any claim on you."

"Dad's pretty head up on killing the... Azazel," Sam said after a moment, carefully testing out the name. He'd have to remember to pass it along to Dean to tell Bobby and John. "Revenge for Mom, y'know? I don't know what might be out there that could actually kill a regular demon instead of just exorcising them, nevermind a Prince of Hell..."

_ "There are a few things that would work," _ Castiel answered, apparently taking Sam's dismayed words for an indirect question.  _ "Consecrated silver blades inscribed with specific runes or sigils are easily within human ability to create. And your ancestor, Samuel Colt, once created a spelled revolver with specially consecrated bullets which can kill almost anything, with the five noted exceptions of the four Archangels and our Father." _

"...I'm not sure I want to risk Dad getting his hands on that one," Sam muttered, shifting uncomfortably as he remembered his talk with Dean... was it really only just that morning? So much had happened, it felt like ages ago. "He's got a bad habit of shooting anything non-human first and asking questions only if shooting doesn't work, and... well...."

"It doesn't always matter to him that what he's shooting at hasn't killed anyone so long as he thinks it might?" Jimmy finished softly. His arms tightened around Sam when he flinched and nodded. "I have an uncle like that, on my father's side. Used to act like a decent a live and let live kind of guy until 'Nam.... He came back with a switch flipped in his head that he couldn't flip off again."

"Sounds familiar," Sam mumbled. He scrubbed a hand over his face. "Just... Dad doesn't believe in angels, and..."

_ "Sam," _ Castiel rumbled gently, ducking their head down far enough to be practically touching the ground so as to look at him directly. This close Sam could see that each massive swirling orb of blue was easily as big as he was seated and complexly faceted, lit from within by the same incredible glow emanating from their entire body. The swirling spectrum brightened and shimmered, and Sam got the very definite impression that Castiel was smiling at him.  _ "While the Colt is designed to enact upon supernatural entities whose nature is not strictly physical, it does require the entity being in a physical form." _ There was a slight shift in the eyes, like Castiel was shifting his focus to Jimmy for a moment, and then their attention was back on Sam.  _ "I... appreciate your concern for me, Sam, but so long as I am in my true form, your father cannot harm me." _

"Not that those reassurances do any good the moment you start wearing me like a suit," Jimmy muttered under his breath, almost too low for Sam to hear.

"...What."


End file.
